


Such A Vicious Hunter

by Lust_Demon



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:55:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22587490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lust_Demon/pseuds/Lust_Demon
Summary: Quick thinking ensures that Bular gets his hands on the amulet of daylight, but the changes it brings to his life ensures that he'll see nothing but difficulties.  The mantle of the Trollhunter is a heavy burden to bear.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	1. Daylight shines on the vicious one

**Author's Note:**

> # I Lust_demon have not given my permission for my work to be posted on any third-party website or app such as Fanfic Pocket Archive. Keep MY work off YOUR app. #

Everything was Khanjigar’s fault. If he had been a more worthy opponent and didn’t simply hurl himself into the sunlight, things may have gone differently. What sort of courage did it take to run from the last vestiges of a fight? Unlike the fight he had with Deya, however, he didn’t feel the magic pull and push before flowing away from him. It made sense of course, because there were trolls here in Arcadia, it would follow that there would be a future Trollhunter here. 

Moving hastily from the center of the bridge to the side, he jumped down hurriedly and rested his swords on his back again. The pile that had been Khanjigar lay in a heap not too far away, in the middle of the slowly growing daylight. Gritting his fangs, he started to reach a hand out and hissed as the light sizzled the top of his hand. How long had it taken Khanjigar to turn to dead stone before he hit the ground? How quickly could he get out there and sift through to find what he needed? Breathing quickly, he looked around, feeling his nerves vibrating in his veins. The ichor that pumped through him heating up like lava as he looked for something to help him. He couldn’t allow this chance to slide through his fingers again. Once he got ahold of the amulet, they could take their time in assembling Killahead bridge because there would be no one who could stand against them.

Going back up to the cross beams, he searched the underside of the bridge, shaking his hands anxiously. His eyes gleaming as he spotted a portion of metal and hurried over to it. It was long and wide, and if he was lucky then it would all come off in one go. The bolts holding it in place were put in by humans so it couldn’t be too hard to pull out. Looking out past the bridge to the sides of the canal, he couldn’t see any of the cars that normally passed by in the morning just yet. That was why it had been perfect for him and Khanjigar to fight, no witnesses to stop them or make them hold back. It had been perfect before the sun rose so it just needed to stay that way for a little bit longer. 

Gripping the metal plate, he heaved his weight against it, gritting his fangs as he moved step by step along the middle cross beam. The bolts popped from it one by one and he could hear them hitting the ground below. The metal cut into his hands from the force he was putting on it but he didn’t care. Wrenching at it, he tugged down even as he pushed forward. Decades he had been waiting for an opportunity like this and he wasn’t about to let it fall away from him by accursed daylight. Pushing on one side and then the other, he took deep breaths before jerking himself forward, pulling down at the same time. He could hear two more bolts popping loose and clattering down on the ground a few seconds past that. Shifting his hands, he continued to pull, able to taste metal at the back of his throat. Pulling to the side, he panted as he pulled, looking up and grinning when he saw that the metal was breaking in the middle. It wasn’t often that he was tested like this, but the fact that this simple piece of metal was eluding him made him want to add more igneous to his diet.

Wrenching it slowly, he ignored the sound of the metal creaking under the stress of his weight and felt his heart lift with each inch that it gave him. When it finally gave way for him completely, he nearly toppled forward from the strain and spun on his heel to look towards the pile of rubble. Jumping down again, he lifted the metal over his head with one hand, adjusting it as he came out a foot at a time. He could feel the heat licking at his hide but he couldn’t feel the crumble of stone coming off him, so he assumed he was fine for the moment. Swallowing back the nerves and anticipation, he strode over to the pile to claim his trophy. His free hand struck into the debris and he quickly shoved aside the larger pieces. Even with the metal to cover him, it wasn’t quite enough and he had to edge it upwards to keep the rays from touching his horns. Instead he felt the first hints of sizzling on his tail and he his breath quickened when the heat stabbed into the tip of him and worked it’s way up to the base. He was doing his best not to let his movements become frantic but he knew this was only a temporary solution. 

It was like his heart stopped when his fingers brushed against the warm metal caught inside the stone. Curling the tips of his fingers around it, he pulled his hand back up and stared at the clockwork like piece that lay in his palm. He could have dropped the metal sheet over him he was so stunned. Able to be blown over with a brisk wind. It lay in his hand, so innocuous, not moving and not giving off any energy that would tell him that it was about to be whisked away by fate. Rubbing his thumb across it, he turned it slightly to read the runes that went around the edge of it. 

_ For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command. _

Snorting softly, he turned it in his palm, lifting his gaze up when he heard the first notes of a moan nearby. A smile curled on his lips, pulling back to bare his fans in a wicked smile when he saw six eyes staring out at him from a drainage pipe. The troll watching him from the safety of the sewers started to look around, clear panic in his expression as he looked for anything to help. There was a deep growl from there and he watched curiously as the four armed troll threw himself at the grate and started to rip at the lock. Eyes like obsidian and jade lit up as the one behind the frantic troll pulled him away and Bular saluted with a loose fist. He knew one of those trolls inside, at least, and hearing the former general roar in indignation made him forget about the burning at the tip of his tail. 

Curling his fist around the amulet, he hurried back under the bridge and let the metal drop to the ground. Leaning against the wall, he stared at the amulet in his hand, his thoughts spinning. Hundreds of years since his father had been cast away to the Darklands by Deya. By this amulet. It was tempting to simply crack it between his hands and see if that would fix things, but what if that didn’t help at all? What if that only made things worse? What if the magic contained inside of it exploded outwards? His thumb rubbed along the bottom curve of it, feeling out each rune. His free hand reached to his loincloth, yanking out a dark purple crystal. 

His fingers tapped either end of the crystal and he waited for it to glow with a sickly energy before lifting it up to his face. “I’m under the bridge at the canal. Come and get me.”

“What are you doing under the bridge?” A voice hissed back. 

“Just come and get me. I have something here that you’ll want to appraise.” He chuckled softly as he turned the amulet in his hand and flicked it in the air before catching it and tucking it away.

He had to shift a bit to make sure that the sunlight didn’t edge under the bridge, but he knew it would take at least an hour before it was anywhere near being dangerous to him and the space he was taking up. The trolls that were in the canal pipe wouldn’t dare risk coming out into the sunlight and it wasn’t as if there were trolls in the hidden town of Trollmarket that could withstand the light of the sun. He kept the communication crystal in his palm, starting to pace back and forth like a tiger in a cage. Even once he got to the safety of indoors and all the windows were closed up to keep out the sun, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep. 

He was a troll of action. If he wasn’t moving then he wasn’t happy. He needed to be fighting or building or moving, anything but standing around waiting for the changeling to come around and pick him up. His tail was still hurting and he didn’t want to look at it just yet because he was fairly certain he knew how much damage there was going to be. His thumb rubbed across one of the facets of the crystal in his grip, not activating it but keeping the magic thrumming through it and ready for him to use at a moments notice. For the first time in so long his heart felt light and he looked over to the drainage pipe where the two trolls were hiding, unable to see anything of them now. Would Aarghaumont want to return to the fold if he had the chance to talk to him? It might even make things go smoother to have the Krubera there and speaking for their side. It had been years since he left them, so he could only assume that Trollmarket had slowly accepted the former general.

He would never admit to being a patient troll, but in the quiet of the morning with the sun creeping along, he found a small bit of peace. He could swear that there was a calmness slowly settling down across his hide, soothing his hackles down a bit at a time. He had always thought that once he finally got his hands on the amulet he wouldn’t be able to sit still, that he would be pumped up with so much energy that he’d be able to fight through hundreds of trolls. He’d still be able to, of course. He was Bular the Vicious, primary heir of Gunmar the Black.

_ Bular. _

Jerking his head up, he looked to the side, frowning and raising a hand up to scratch at his horns.

_ Bular the-- _

“There you are! I came as fast as I could.” 

Looking over, he saw that the changeling was carrying a large umbrella. The sneaky impure had gotten up on the side of him while he was lost in thought. He had to be more tired than he originally thought. Grinning, he headed towards her and took the umbrella from her so she could open up the back of the large van for him. Once he was safe inside, he folded up the umbrella and made himself as comfortable as he could. She was still at the open doors of the van, looking a bit horrified and he grunted as he put the umbrella to the side.

“What? We need to get back to the safe house.” 

“Your tail… sir.” She cringed back.

He didn’t want to look at it. Once they were settled in the house he would get her to tend to it. He lifted his chin, a rumbling growl coming from him. “A necessary sacrifice.” 

Her eyes widened at this and she nodded quickly before closing up the back. He could hear the patter of her footsteps coming to the driver’s side and relaxed once the engine started up. The smile returned to his face despite all the pain and he let his had dip down to the pocket where he had stashed the amulet, his fingers running across it once more. A warmth seeped up from where he touched it and he tensed when he heard the soft whispering again.

_ Bular. _

Giving his head a small shake, he pushed it from his thoughts, yanking his hand away from the amulet. He was definitely more tired than he originally thought.


	2. Pave the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bular and his closest changeling go over details.

The trip back to the safe house was… mostly quiet. The changeling in the front seat had turned on the radio and he focused on the music to ignore the whispers that echoed in his mind. Something had been calling to him and he was resolute that he would forget it ever happened. There was no one inside the van but him and the changeling, and the changeling knew better than to try to talk to him while he was trying to rest up. She had been silent as she pulled into the underground parking lot and left him so she could ensure that everything was locked up after them before they went to the stairwell that led to the abandoned building they had taken for themselves. A fire had made the building unlivable and condemned so it ensured that they were never bothered, except by the occasional homeless person that turned into a snack.

The amulet had stayed in the small pouch on his belt and he was eager to get it into a safe spot to be locked away. It sat close to his hip, warm against his stone in a way he was unfamiliar with. Magic from the Darklands was cold. Gritshakas were icy to the touch even after they were activated because the magic that powered them was derived from the dark and the moon. Was it because the amulet was Merlin’s creation, because it represented the sun and it’s deadliness that made it so warm even when it was inactive? Was Khanjigar always surrounded by this heat when he wore the armor? Did he feel it in his palm like lava when he wielded Daylight? Was the mantle of the Trollhunter something that seared it’s user every time they used it’s magic? 

All the more reason for it to be locked away. All the more reason to only trust the magic that he had grown up with. This more than anything told him that the amulet was something to be feared, even if he didn’t know that this was the tool used to lock his father away in the Darklands. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brought a hand to his face and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He could smell the changeling coming back again and didn’t bother to open his eyes. An Impure was not something you could trust, but this one had been at his side for so long that he knew her inside and out. She didn’t have whelps of her own, and although he was an adult, she would sometimes treat him like a child that needed tending. He tolerated it because it made her easier to deal with. And her skills with medicine meant that he would never have to worry about parts of his hide becoming infected if he was cut with some strange blade.

Her small hands rested on his forearm and he let his hand fall away from his face to look at her as she guided him to sit down on a stack of pallets that had a large blanket tossed across them. An unnecessary comfort item, one of a handful of things that she stored in this safe area. Seeing the plump human face, however, just made his stomach rumble and he pulled his arm away from her, waving a hand.

“Take that off before I eat you.”

She smiled at him then, always did when he brought up devouring her. He should have been more annoyed with the fact that she didn’t take his threat seriously. But really it was his own fault because he’d never so much as taken a finger from her yet. She gave herself a shake to rid herself of the human form, the deep red clay color of her hide shimmering for a moment before her troll form was seen properly. She barely came up to his chest and if she didn't have that hideous human form he might find her appealing. 

"You said that you found something? Something to be appraised? Is it an antique?" 

“Get an iron lock box.” He put a hand to her shoulder, giving her a small shove to push her away. She didn’t seem to mind, practically bouncing away from him, eager to please and better than the rest of her peers. “And find me something to eat.”

“I was making something before you called, it should still be hot.” She nodded as she moved away, going to find him his food.

Grumbling quietly, he placed a hand over the pouch on his belt. The soft sound of a voice seemed to tickle across his horns and his fingers were warm where the amulet was resting. Putting the thing into some form of binding iron box should keep it from talking to him, and it should also keep it from escaping to the newest Trollhunter, whenever it chose who that would be. 

_ Bular the Vicious. _ It whispered his title like it was holding back a secret, words that he needed to hear being kept just out of reach.

Turning his head away, he grit his teeth to ignore it and shifted his hand to one of the skulls on his kilt. Feeling around the orbital ridge of one, he traced the familiar planes of the bone. Was this one of the magic users he had bested, or just another human warrior that believed they were better than the rest? There had been so many over the years and this wasn’t the first time that he’d had to have a skull replaced on his armor. Looking down at it, he absently touched where the leather was threaded through holes drilled into the bone and carefully eased it off, picking it up and turning it between his palms. Even before it decorated his kilt, it was just another faceless enemy to defeat. One of his old hiding spots had a small throne fashioned in a way similar to his father’s with bones and skulls at the base to show how many he had bested before. He had to leave his collection behind and he'd never gotten the chance to build it up again because there was always a chance of being found. If someone saw a pile of bones, the police got involved, and they could only fit so many changelings into the police force. And even with changelings in the police force, they couldn't always make everyone in the district turn away from what looked like a serial murderer. After all, this wasn't the 1850's anymore. 

He could smell the thick scent of cooked meat and smiled faintly, putting the skull to the side and looking up to see the changeling had brought him back the food he ordered. The large serving tray was piled with rare meat and a healthy side of vegetables that he didn't care for but would eat just to fill the void in his stomach. Taking it from her, he nodded in approval as he took the first bite, glancing sidelong when she sat herself at his side, looking up at him eagerly. 

She should have known better than to interrupt his eating, but he could see that her curiosity was eating away at her. "What did you find, my Lord?"

He waved a hand towards the large backpack she carried and she jumped to get it off her back, opening it up to show the iron safe she had inside. There was a key in the lock and when he squinted he could see there was an unfinished rune on the side. Pausing in his eating, he turned the key to open it and tucked it into his belt for the time being. 

"This rune?" He gestured to the unfinished symbol. 

"It's only part of one. You need to complete it to attune the box to you. That way even if someone else tried to open the box, it wouldn't work. Not without you there." She sat up straighter and he had the distinct impression of a hunting hound waiting for praise. The impression wasn't helped by the fact that her tail was swaying behind her. 

He could feel his traitorous maw wanting to twitch into a smile and clenched his jaw, pretending to inspect the iron box over for any defects. Looking at the unfinished rune, he could see that the lines could be completed to make it into a few different words and he glanced over at the changeling. She seemed a bit anxious but she turned herself away so he could scratch in his chosen rune with a claw. The magic was simple, turning the iron of the key a deep brass color before fading back to it’s normal silver tone. As he suspected, the scratches he made faded away as well so no one would be able to tell what he had chosen for the rune. Anyone that knew him would know what he chose, but he suspected that the only one who truly knew him was his father.

A troll that was locked away in the Darklands, much like Merlin’s tool would soon be secreted away in this box. The parallel was enough to make him chuckle briefly and he opened up the box before reaching to his side to dig the amulet out. The clockwork like amulet gave a few shifts in his grip, the exterior metal sliding forward a tick before clicking backwards just a second later. It was like a watch that was too run down to work properly and Bular licked his lips as he wondered just why it moved like that now. 

“You can look now. As long as you don’t wail like a banshee.” 

“Why would I wai--” The changeling’s words caught in her throat and she immediately clamped her hands over her mouth to keep the squeal from pulling out of her and bouncing around the acoustics of the underground building. “It’s real? That’s the real one?” 

“It is real. And it is mine.” Bular almost purred as he put the amulet into the box and closed it up, locking it quickly and then dusting his fingers off. 

Looking at the key, he wrinkled his nose faintly and then stuffed it away in his pocket. He could put the key right next to it and it still wouldn’t open without his hand behind it, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Glancing at the changeling, he could see that she was practically vibrating with excitement and he had to fight to keep the smile off his face. Grabbing the platter of food she had brought him, he quickly took a few more bites of the juicy meat she had cooked, trying to place it. Definitely not human, as much as he would have relished that, but it didn't have the same flavor as cow or venison either. Pausing to shove some chunks of turnip in his mouth, he rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. This was a poor feast for celebrating the death of a Trollhunter, but he'd killed Trollhunters in the past so was it truly something worth celebrating at this point?

"What is this meat?" He asked in a low tone, pushing curiosity out of his voice, wanting her to only hear the dark growl of warning. 

"Oh! It's imported. Moose. There's a bunch more in the freezer, the Janus branch up in Canada has a reserve and they've been keeping them. More meat on them than cows, and the meat is tougher so.. yeah." She was babbling, rubbing her wrist anxiously as she looked at him for approval. "If you don't like it--"

"It's adequate." He interrupted her before she could talk herself in a circle. 

Trying to ignore how her ears started to twitch as he continued to eat, he shifted back in his seat, wincing when the spots where his stone met sun practically screamed at him for attention. He didn’t have to look to know that there was some ichor welling up in spots and he would likely have some scars from the encounter. 

"My Prince? May I get you something to heal those marks.." the changelings ears started to swivel back and downward, anxious to do more perhaps. Or maybe she just wanted an excuse to slip away so she could send a message to the other changelings so they would know what was happening. 

"Do it quickly." He let the growl roll off his tongue without any heat behind it. “And Theadosia? You’ll keep what you’ve seen here between the two of us for now.”

He could tell that the use of her name had startled her, he used it so seldom that she probably thought he had forgotten it. That simple act gave her pause and he figured that would distract her enough that she would keep from spreading around the word of what happened that morning. If the Janus order was involved with things right away then they would clamber all around him and give him no peace, wanting to take the amulet and secret it away in one of their underground vaults.

He tossed a sweet potato in his maw, the smooth texture of it spreading across his tongue in a way meat never did and made him wrinkle up his nose in distaste. It didn’t taste horrible at least, the changeling was good at remembering the few vegetables that he could abide and did her best to only keep those in the pantry. As long as she continued to listen to him then she was worth keeping around. He shifted to get comfortable, unable to suppress the wince when his tail was touched by the soft blanket and it sent another jolt of pain up his spine. Sad that even something that small could cause him pain now, even with the help that the changeling would bring it would be best if he stayed out of any fights for at least a night while the damage scarred over properly. If he was lucky then he wouldn’t have to cut it off.

Lightly tapping his claws on the make shift seat, he let his eyes close as he waited for the changeling to come back. It didn’t take her long, but it still surprised him a bit since her hoofsteps were so quiet. Between the deep red of her hide and the agility that she used to get around, she reminded him a bit of the kalapus that used to stalk through the forests and mountains. 

He had told her that once, meaning for it to be a compliment but she turned cold towards him for a full week, insisting that she wasn’t an egg thief. It wasn’t something he would want to experience again so he had wisely kept any further comments to himself. He wasn’t sure if it was because she was female or because she was a changeling, but he just didn’t understand her.

He could feel the soft touch of a hand on the underside of his tail and grumbled softly, peeking an eye open to watch her. It didn’t surprise him that she looked serious about her job. She was always insistent on keeping him healthy and even when he was in a sour mood she would linger out of sight to make sure that he ate properly and got enough sleep. 

The soft blanket was moved aside in favor of laying his tail on a blanket and he shifted with the slight touch of her hand, making it easier for her to pour water across his hide and start to wash away any debris that was caught in the growing crags of his wound. There was a set of tweezers laid on a clean cloth in case anything needed to be picked out as well because despite the fact that they both had sharp claws, the changeling refused to use bare claws inside a wound. A few hundred years ago he would have rolled his eyes at the notion, but he’d gleaned some things from human medical advances to appreciate that she was taking that extra bit of care.

A fine powder was poured into the wound and he could smell that it was ground bone, something that made his stomach rumble in appreciation. Hopefully she had saved some of that to be put into a stew as well, but he knew it would help being applied directly into the wound. A cool plaster was layered over it next and the changeling peeked up at him with a little smile as she worked, criss crossing the fabric that would later be cut away and reused in food for the younger changelings. Watching her work made him want to move again and she must have felt that because she put her hand down on a section of his tail that wasn’t burnt, looking up at him sternly.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He rolled his eyes and tried to relax back in a way that wouldn’t cause a kink in his tail.

“I know.” There was a faint smile on her face, a fang poking to the side crookedly upwards when she did so. “I’m just making sure. Since we have to stay here until it sits, could you tell me about how you got the amulet?”

It was a moment of pride for him but he shrugged as though it was commonplace, rolling his thick shoulders backwards and straining the leather harness a bit. “The trollhunter and I fought. He was attempting to keep me away from human eyes, thinking back he likely was leading me to the bridge not just to get shelter for himself but also to ensure that if things turned ill for him, he could throw himself into daylight to keep me away from the amulet. Perhaps he had hoped to shove me out into it, but it didn’t turn out that way.” 

The changeling had her long legs folded under her, gold eyes glinting like freshly polished amber. He could hear the softest of purrs coming from her thin chest and had to bring a hand up to rub at his maw in an effort to hide his smile. When he dropped his hand, he leaned over to her, running his tongue across his fangs with a wicked smile. 

“But nothing could keep me from this. We fought under the bridge, using the supports to keep distance from one another where we could. Pushed one another into the edging sunlight by pieces and then back into the shadows as quick as silver.” He watched the dilation of her eyes and drank in her silent adulation. “Between sword and fist, we traded blows, straining to undo one another. We both knew that this day would mark the end of one of us. He used the flat of his blade to push me back but I endured, tensed against each hit so I could rain my fury down on him.

“But then, as the sun was creeping higher, like the kudzu vine that chokes the life around it, the trollhunter thought to keep victory from me. He stole the final blow from me by hurling himself into the light. He was already weakened from our fight so the sun overtook his form easily, sweeping across him so fast that his armor’s magic couldn’t withstand it.” Bular clenched his fist, sweeping his arm outwards in an imitation of Khanjigar throwing himself off the bridge. “But I would not stand for it. I dove after him even as his body crumbled, twisting myself to try to take the least amount of sun’s hatred on my hide. I shoved my hand into his still warm stone and grasped the amulet before rushing back to the cover of shadows. And then.. I called for you.”

He smirked proudly, tucking a thumb into his belt and relaxing backwards casually. The changeling was covering her mouth in an attempt not to make an overexcited noise and he rolled his eyes briefly before reaching his free hand out so he could tug at her wrist and reveal the sharp fangs and sharper smile that she was hiding from him. Her forked tongue was held tight between her front teeth, tight enough that he could see a prick of ichor there and he absently rubbed her wrist. 

“Just once. Go ahead.” He sighed, knowing he didn’t sound as put upon as he should in this moment. 

The sound that warbled from her was something between a shriek and a giggle and she flapped her hands rapidly to try to expend some of the energy in her. “I should cook all of the moose for you! And find seal meat to make sushi, with seaweed papers that have been soaked in fish egg oils.”

“Save the feast. There’s going to be much to do and I need your tongue as still as gravesand.” He clucked his tongue and motioned for her to get comfortable. “I didn’t tell you who I saw before you got to the bridge. There were a pair hiding in the sewers as well. A conundrum, and an old friend.”

The thick hair along her arms puffed up in anticipation and he resisted the urge to pet it back down like she was an animal. “Aarghaumont was hiding away with the other. And this… presents a rare opportunity for us. We have a good many Impure on the surface, but the true Gumm Gumm trolls..? We are the only two that are left, and though the trolls of Trollmarket are weaker, there are many of them. I need you, and any other clever friend you can pull in, to help us bring the General back to us.” 

Reaching out, he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He could feel the faint trembling in her stone when he tugged her in close to him and growled low. 

“The one in the museum… what is she called?” He growled softly, watching her intently, the subtle pride that he remembered her name but not this other Impure. 

“Nomura? What about her?” 

There was still a note of jealousy in her tone and he used a claw to lightly prick her neck as he drew her in closer. “She is useful, had a dalliance with a troll in the past. Speak with her, bring her in if you have to. If you know of any others, bring them in with discretion. We want to get Aarghaumont back to us by any means necessary.”

“And… you want me to learn from them and seduce him?” She looked ready to spit teeth, perhaps his own, out at him in anger.

“No.” The idea bothered him in a way he couldn’t put his claw on, his voice raising a few octaves. “All of you will find a way to best come at him for this. Pick one of you to infiltrate trollmarket. We’ve done it before, we can do it once again. Once there, whoever draws the short straw can start to draw him out and ensnare him in the way you females do best. He won’t stand a chance under the wiles of a woman.” 

She looked pensive and tilted her head faintly, the hair on her arms slowly laying back down as she calmed herself. It seemed as long as he wasn’t trying to insinuate that she be the one to go into Trollmarket and seduce the general, they were both fine with it.

“The best thing we can do to aid my father is to pave a way for him by building a base of security around ourselves. The Janus Order does well to hide itself, but the time to fight is quickly coming. You’ll need to sharpen every weapon at your disposal.” He let himself relax back and idly plucked some of the meat off his half forgotten plate of dinner. Looking at her, he offered her a bite and watched as she sank her teeth into the tough meat and pulled away before yanking it from his grasp. Baring his fangs in a wild smile, he took the next piece for himself and growled low, inviting her in close to share the rest. “I’m going to open the way for my father. And you will be there beside me for each step I take.”


End file.
